


Wicked

by Bidawee



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Christian Themes, Falling In Love, Fictional Religion & Theology, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Polygamy, Power Dynamics, Religious Content, Religious Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 05:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19056295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bidawee/pseuds/Bidawee
Summary: As a child, he thought he’d want it. As an adult, he’s not so sure. Marriage is the end of the bachelor’s life. Sure, the church will always be there to look after him and the family he gets, that he does not deny. However, he loves walking the earth, turning his boot upside down after hikes to clear it of debris, and spending the day in the sunshine. With that in mind, a family would take more out of him than just a bite out of his paycheck.





	Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in two days on a whim so. prepare for some story potholes
> 
> the setting of this story takes place in a fundamentalist religious extremist community and any stipulations or suggestions about religion should not be taken seriously. it in no way reflects the behaviour or beliefs of religions that appear similar to it. **i don’t share any of the story’s opinions on religion. they are exaggerated and do not reflect the people who practice it.** as always if i am wrong or something needs correcting, shoot me a message.

It starts when he’s fifteen, with a box of dusty, old books.

He helps his younger brother open them, who says he found the box from one of the shops in town that were clearing inventory. If it was one of the outsider businesses, their community heads would have grabbed the boxes containing necessary goods like baby toys, cleaning supplies, or instruction manuals. The fact that this box was left behind says more than it should.

“What’s this?” he asks. The box is bigger than his brother; he can’t believe he walked over thirty minutes to bring it home.

“We found these books, two dollars for all of them,” Alex says.

“You got books?” he says, voice full of disappointment. “Aw, man.”

“Not our books, _their_ books. Look at them.” He hands over the first book. The cover is bright red with white cursive letters spelling out the name of title and author. The spine is decorated with silver rods. The appeal of holding it in his hands is short-lived.

It’s so pretty, prettier than the gold leaf filigree on the Bibles they see in the pews at church.

Alex gives him two and keeps three. The two that Willy keeps are placed in the spare pillowcase under his bed, the one his siblings never ask to use because of the yellow stain on the corner. He reads them in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep, using his fingers to remember his place and help sound out the words. There are so many words he doesn’t understand, with vowels stacked together. He can’t ask his mother or father for help, so he has to guess and move on. One page takes him about eight minutes to read.

The red book is a book about fantasy, speaking in detail about creatures Willy has never seen: coyotes the size of man and birds of every colour bringing happiness to those that see them. He cares less about the main characters, the inserts, and looks forward to reading about what magic is and how it exists. Those passages are his favourite.

The second book, the green and brown one, is a book about romance. It’s a coming of age story about a young woman, with long blonde hair, who falls in love with the boy across the street. It subverts a lot of what he knows. The first time they touch hands, in the school cafeteria no less, he wants to yell at her. So much content exists in the pages that makes his shoulders spike, it’s ridiculous. But he keeps reading, all the way to the ending where they share their kiss at their wedding.

If his mother or father saw the book, they’d burn it, no doubt about that. Willy’s standing in the community would be threatened; he’d become a lost boy. After a scare with his mother cleaning under the bed and asking if she could get rid of the old pillowcase for good, he moves the books behind his dresser where there’s an indent in the wall. That’s where they sit, for years.

 

Willy remembers, back when he was very young, the divorce of the congregation. He remembers living in a different house before they moved out into the country to live with his father’s side of the family, one that was very white. He liked it there, the house was bigger, but they had to leave; people were getting mad at them for living like they were. That was his introduction to the prairie lands, what he’d later call home.

Their chores multiplied but came with them many privileges they didn’t have while living in the city. Riding horses bareback became part of his weekend. His mother started a plant nursery and the whole house smelled like honeysuckle for the next ten years. The ladies they met were so kind as to teach his sisters how to braid their hair back, with the older men giving him his first pair of button-ups and slacks he would go on to wear almost every day. He made many friends, Henrik, Joseph, David, all of whom would take him down to the river to play.

The difference between his new home and his old are the walls, which protect them from the same people that tried to prosecute them. The compound is large, spanning miles of square footage. It contains the school building, the storage facilities, the bookbinding factories, and more. He’s been everywhere he could go and then some but the walls stop him from meeting the other people in town, the non-believers who keep their distance.

He wants to meet them someday and see what it’s like to not believe in something so powerful, so miraculous. Maybe they think he’s weird because he does. It’s a fantasy though, just like his books. He knows he’s going to live here for the rest of his life. He’s practicing his faith so that later, he can go where they cannot.

 

Most men don’t marry until their twenty-first birthday. Their faith tells them that marriage will be their salvation, that their partner will come to them in a series of revelations and their love will fit the cookie-cutter shape of the church. Until that point however, they have to practice abstinence. Note-passing, combing hair with hands, God forbid _falling in love_ , is out of the question.

Despite that, marriage is all people ever talk about. It’s the thing they’re working toward, when they’re not actually working that is. Willy gets it better than most because he takes on his father’s construction job. He spends one less day in school during the week because of it, which is one less day hearing his classmates talk about who it is they’ll be with and if they’ll have plural wives or husbands when they’re older. Still, it’s hard to get away from and not being able to test the waters only makes matters worse.

As a child, he thought he’d want it. As an adult, he’s not so sure. Marriage is the end of the bachelor’s life. Sure, the church will always be there to look after him and the family he gets, that he does not deny. However, he loves walking the earth, turning his boot upside down after hikes to clear it of debris, and spending the day in the sunshine. With that in mind, a family would take more out of him than just a bite out of his paycheck.

His brother agrees. Having just become an adult himself, he’s very vocal about his opinions. “I want to get out of this town,” he says. “I want to go where there’s art.”

“You’re going to have a hard time convincing dad to let you do that.”

“Who says I’m asking dad?” Alex says. That’s the end of the discussion. Willy doesn’t want to know what’s running through his head. Plausible deniability and all.

The older he gets, the more he questions the church’s rules. Radio, television, it’s all out of the question. The walls keep him in more than they keep the people out. He has to dig himself out of the west side construction sites just to see the station wagons drive by.

Church service doesn’t help, not when the answer to the questions he asks is always to keep sweet. The heads of the houses speak and their family have to nod their heads and agree. Everything is said on repeat until it becomes a hot brand that burns the back of his head.

The first time he kisses a boy, he does it by the grain storage silos. He expects the sky to open up and weep because of it, only nothing happens. Their lips are touching and then they’re not, as the other boy runs home in shame. No one comes to answer the call of justice. Willy goes home and eats dinner, touches holy water at church without being burned. The congregation is none the wiser to his sin.

So he continues. He learns all the right words to say. Few if any don’t take the bait. Word spreads around that William Nylander kisses but does not tell. More people come forward, more often than not in the shadows. Some of his older female classmates use him to look where they’re not supposed to. The boys are less kind with their explorations. He has one boy slam him to a wall so that he can smack his lips on his throat.

His twentieth birthday is tense in more ways than one. Seeing the names and faces of people he’s been making out with behind barn doors doesn’t make for the most comfortable family gathering. He’s red hot with shame. Picking at his food is the only distraction he can use that doesn’t make him look like a crazy person. Even if they’re rumours, there’s a bit of truth in almost every story.

At that point, it’s not a one-man job. He can see some of the adults talking behind his back; they’re not subtle about it. Them knowing about him puts everyone on the chopping block. The fate of him and his family rests in the hands of strangers.

 

The church’s reverend approaches their family one spring afternoon. The air is just beginning to warm and tulips sprout from under their feet. Willy tries shooting for the fairytale, helping his mother plant flowers both in and outside of the house. The weather couldn’t be nicer, the people kinder. Since the birthday, he’s been strong about keeping it on the down low, being the perfect boy: the poster child for a brighter future. They can’t pin on him what doesn’t happen.

So imagine his face when the pastor pays them a visit, sitting down in their living room and eating their biscuits. He stays respectful during the introductions but cold to Willy. Of course, he’s a sucker for Willy’s younger sisters, who want to show him their progress in school and devotion to their faith. It’s pouring salt into the open wound.

Once the pleasantries are over, they get down to business. Willy’s parents flank him as they sit together on the old couch. Their pastor gets the one good chair made of mahogany, his parents’ wedding present if he remembers correct. The smile slips off the older man’s face.

He starts off running. “The courtyard boys said you left the working grounds with Tyler yesterday, is that true?”

“Yes, sir.” He puts his words down slowly. He looks at his father out of the corner of his eye. He did leave but they didn’t do anything. They were kicking crab apples for fun.

The pastor leans forward. “As you may know, Tyler is under suspicion of having a premarital relationship with a member of this community. I hope you realize that any instance of this, sexual or not, is a violation of our rules.”

“I do,” he says. He knows it’s a violation, they talk about it all the time. What surprises him is the prosecution of Tyler. Clearly, whoever he was with had problems with being discreet.

“Good. Now tell me, what are you doing with Tyler that afternoon?”

Willy swallows all of the salivae in his mouth. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You know what lying is a sin, William. Don’t make me ask again.”

Willy’s mother doesn’t look surprised but out of the corner of his eye he can see she’s trying to hold back her grief. He doesn’t care what happens, he’s not going to lie.

“I didn’t do nothing,” he says again. “We—“

“It was me.” Willy turns around and sees Alex coming out from the kitchen. He looks like a ghost.

“What?” the pastor asks. Willy’s hands let go of his knees, he wheels around trying to mouth something, anything at his brother to get him to shut up, or even thank him for stepping in when he did, as much as the thought of it makes him feel sick.

Both of his parents rise to meet Alex. “What are you saying?” their father asks.

“I kissed Tyler. It was all me. Willy had nothing to do with it.”

Willy wants to yell at him. He didn’t even kiss Tyler in the first place, so it had to be another boy somewhere in the community with worse preservation skills than them both. Why take the fall for someone they don’t even know, nor care for?

“Alex,” their mother says. Her voice twangs.

Their pastor walks around the coffee table and meets Alex halfway. “We will have to discuss this in front of the council.”

“Please, have mercy.” Their mother tries to get as close as possible to both of them; create a partition using her shoulders. “He doesn’t know what it is he does.”

“Miss Nylander, you know the rules and so does Alex, he has lived with us long enough. He is a danger to the other men and women here.”

Alex looks like he’s about to cry. Willy wants to stroke his hair down and hold him close like he did when he was small. Their code of conduct states he should do otherwise. Right now, Alex is wicked. Anyone that stands up for him will be wicked by association.

His mother understands this better than anyone. Even the love a mother has for her son doesn’t stop her from telling him she found books in his room, a violation of their code. With no counter argument set in stone, Alex is taken away.

 

He wonders what it was like. Some stories come back but all are over exaggerated (at least he hopes they are). The thought of his younger brother being dropped into some random town or kicked out of the truck in the middle of the wilderness to fend for himself is sickening. It makes him wish more than ever that he said something. At least then, Alex wouldn’t think of him as being such a horrible brother.

To help him get to sleep, he tells himself Alex did it on purpose. He has no way of knowing for sure.

 

The pastor comes back the next day at dawn, with no Alex in sight. Willy’s parents are dreary: they make their reverend tea and serve it hot at the dining table. The smell is so strong. It’s green tea, he can’t stand the pungent odour.

He braves the waters, just once. “What happened to Alex?”

“You know what happened to Alex,” their pastor replies. He's not finished yet. He taps his fingers on the desk to grab Willy’s attention back.

“William, maybe it would benefit you to leave this side of the community and join me and my family on church grounds, away from the bad influences here.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” his mother says. Willy can see that his father’s agreeing with her with the nod of his head.

Willy’s not so convinced, the congregation has some of the most dedicated whack jobs this side of the state. Nothing but a bunch of preachers and lawyers sticking their noses into everyone else’s business. There is no freedom to be had there.

“What about my job?” he asks. Construction still needs to be completed on the new mill. They said they were short of workers.

The pastor puts his hand on Willy’s outstretched knee: invasive. “They will be fine without you, and you without it. I believe this is the best course of action, for you and your family.” Willy pulls his leg away as he finishes speaking.

Bringing his family into the problem complicates things. Anything he does will be a reflection of their character. Already, the rumours run about in town. Their reputation sours because of it. Job opportunities and access to food all hang in the balance of what he says. He worries for them more than he does himself.

He goes along with it, because he has to.

 

His temporary home is much bigger than the family one, despite it having fewer people inside. Most families have an average of four children each but the pastor only has the two grandchildren: David and his older brother.

Willy remembers playing with David as a child, he would come down with his mother on holidays and they’d pick wildflowers to line the fences with. Willy was the energetic child and David the friend that stopped him from making bad decisions. He liked having someone his age to play with when they first moved but the older he got, the less time they spent together.

There’s the occasional David sighting in town when the family comes in for church service but this will be their first time talking in years. Already, he can see the difference time has made. David now has a thick beard that starts at his chin and spreads out to sideburns. What was once a clump of dirty blond hair on his head has darkened to a brown and parts in two directions. A pair of thin frame glasses sit on his nose.

The rest family waits for him at the door, hands at their front. Willy’s hands are clammy, he tries to straighten his clothes. Every man, woman, and child greeting him look like they’ve come right out of a church pamphlet. The ladies’ long hair is braided down their back, the men and young boys with shoes that shine. Just being in their presence makes him want to shrink down.

“William,” the pastor steps forward. He takes Willy’s hand and gives it a firm shake. “Welcome home. Come inside, we’re preparing dinner to commemorate your stay.”

David says nothing but Willy can feel a hand just briefly touch his side. It stays there for longer than it would if it were an accident.

David’s grandfather is the mouthpiece of their religion. He decides when dinner is on the table, what temperature it is, and how it is set. The house is cleaned from top to bottom every morning, the religious texts on display in the living room. That first night, Willy comes under fire for filling the children’s glasses with “too much” juice and later, he’s said to have eaten his food too slowly.

They pray over the food and the introduction of Willy to the family but save the small talk for later. None of the wives or husband of the uncles come over to meet him personally. When he asks for second servings, they turn the other way. The only interaction he receives with them is when they show him his new room.

It’s a very empty space. He came with no furniture of his own and the Pastrňák family only gives him a bed. There’s a single window in the room but being on the second story, it serves no purpose. When he tries to open it, a cushion of dust flies up in his face. On closer inspection, the crank used to open the window is nowhere to be seen and the notch is open. He lets the curtains close in front of him, to remind himself not to try again tomorrow.

A while later, he hears a rap on the door. It’s late, the remaining members of the family that didn’t leave must be in bed by now.

David is standing there when he opens the door. “Hey,” he says. His voice is so low that it better resembles a grind. One of his hands is flat to the door, pressing back against Willy.

“Hey,” Willy says back. He clears his throat when the words scrape on his tongue. He’s in his change of clothes, the temple garments. He’s not fit for the viewing eye and for a pastor’s grandson, that’s a big deal.

If David sees, he chooses not to comment. “I would like to ask if I could come in.”

Willy’s eyes slide to the left, then the right. “Is that allowed? We’re alone.”

“Of course,” David says back. He then lowers his voice. “It will be our secret.” Willy opens the door and lets him inside.

David surveys the room with a sour expression. “I’m sorry it looks like this, my brother’s family took all the cabinet space. You can give me your suitcase if you want me to hang your clothes up in my room.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Willy says, “but no thanks.”

“Oh?” David sits on the bed. “In the state that they’re in, they wouldn’t be what I’d call Sunday best. Really, it’s no trouble.”

Willy holds a laugh back. “All right then, go ahead.” He sits beside David. The bed dips. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” David knocks their heads together, on purpose and with care. “I don’t have anyone around to help me make bad decisions anymore.”

An image of Alex flashes in his mind. Willy pulls his body close. “That’s the reason I’m here actually.”

He hears David’s teeth click in his mouth. “I know.”

“You know?” Willy turns to him. “How much did he tell you?”

“Enough. I wanted to know why you were coming to stay with us.”

Willy’s hands grab onto the side of the bed.

David angles his toes down to touch the floor. “Is it true you kissed another boy?” he asks. He looks up at Willy as he speaks.

Before he left the house, Willy and his mother rehearsed what he would tell the pastor if the question ever came up. The words die on him now.

He takes his time replying. “That was Alex, not me.”

“But I heard you kissed boys too.” Willy says nothing. David leans in. “Worse?”

Willy feels his skin prick. “It was what it was.” He turns to look David in the eye, making it clear he does not want to continue. The last person he would confess to would be someone that could ruin his life.

David gives him space once again. “Maybe you can ask for forgiveness,” he says. It’s not what he actually wanted to say, it sounds too distracted for that to be true.

The comment makes Willy feel like he’s somersaulting. “I don’t need forgiveness!” he says, louder than it should be said to compensate for how his own insecurities ring in his head.

David holds a hand up. “Not for someone else but for you. I’ve heard it helps to say a prayer.”

“Do you actually believe that?”

“I have to,” he jokes. “But what I believe doesn’t matter, it’s your life.”

“Yeah, it is.” Willy draws his knees up to hide his face. There’s a lot he does want to say but he has to pick and choose what information he does give out. For his own well-being.

David pats him on the back, seeing if he can get more out of him. Willy says nothing, enjoying the company he has for as long as he can. As it is, the longer David stays in his room the greater the opportunity that Willy says something stupid.

David leaves, suitcase in hand, and turns the lights out as he goes.

 

Being a guest doesn’t mean he gets to lay back and relax. If anything, they use the change in location as a spiritual retreat and put him to the test.

They put his muscles to work and have him wheelbarrow hay to the horses. He’s in charge of caring for them, repairing and sweeping their stalls and enclosures, as well as doing the ever-changing laundry list of chores they give him. The chickens are the worst: domesticated yes, but not kind. He likes the horses home on the family ranch. Their temperament is easy to work with; he doesn’t have to fear a kick to the face when he picks their hooves.

Because of the uniform code, he can’t change into comfortable clothes or remove the ones he has on. It’s a world of discomfort having to not only wear the button-ups to his neck but do it all in the hot sun. More often than not, he stinks of sweat, animals, and the feed. His arms are a red colour and he has freckles all over his neck and back from the hours outside.

The Pastrňáks, for all of their kindness, don’t so much as let him step foot into the house until he has washed in the river, even though they have a tub inside. The children are the ones with applesauce on the face and muddy hands but it’s him making the five-minute walk to the stream where a touch of the cold water could freeze the body solid.

The warm weather makes it tolerable. That, and other things.

“Hey William,” a voice cries out. He turns around to see David approaching on foot, a book under his arm. David is always in the house when he gets back from working but keeps his distance. It’s a surprise to see him that day.

Willy dunks his head into the water and then lifts it up, pushing his wet hair back. His shirt is still by the shore where he left it. David should not be near him like this, it’s improper.

“You can call me Willy, you know. You used to,” Willy tells him.

David hums, “yes, but I prefer William now. It suits you.”

Willy cocks his eyebrows. “It suits me?” He makes his way to shore, slowed by the pulse of the river.

“You’re not a boy anymore though,” David says. “William fits a much older man.”

“There are so many Williams in the town already but only one Willy. It’s easier to just say Willy.”

Willy reaches shallow water and then the sand glut that surrounds the river. The one towel he owns sits on the branches of one of the low hanging trees, along with his shirt.

As he’s reaching up to grab the towel, David comes up behind him and yanks it down for him. He hands it over with a smile. “That’s true. I don’t know any other Williams though.”

Willy throws the towel over his head, shaking his hair to get the water out. “Aren’t you going to like, take your grandfather’s place? You’re going to have to learn them.”

David looks surprised. “Me? No.” He shakes his head. “My older brother will be in charge, with his family. I’m just the spare in case something goes wrong.”

“Expendable, are you?” Willy says as he makes grabby hands at David. It takes the other man a minute to realize he wants his shirt too but when he does, he has no problem getting it for him.

“Something like that.”

Willy smiles at him, enough to show teeth. He flaps the shirt once to get the tree leaves and bark bits out, then sticks both arms into the holes. David watches him do the shirt buttons from the bottom up, as long as it takes.

“Thanks for the shirt,” Willy says after. David walks him back, appearing to have had no purpose for being there in the first place besides talking to him. “You’re still the same.”

“Oh?”

“I seem to remember you always being the one that grabbed plates and cups for me as a kid.”

“Oh,” David laughs. “Yeah, I remember. You were small.”

Willy expects him to go for the easy “you still are” joke and has a comeback ready to go. David, however, is quiet. He looks contemplative.

Willy bumps his shoulder. “But yeah. Thanks. I would’ve thought you’d stay away from me.”

“And why would I do that?”

“You know, because I’m wicked and all that.”

A thickness opens up between them. David becomes serious.

“No, you’re not. If anyone says that, you steer them to me.”

The change in tune is so strong Willy doesn’t have a response ready. He stares open-mouthed at David for a few steps. David looks ahead. It’s like he doesn’t exist.

When they get back, David uses the chaperone excuse to explain why he was alone with Willy. His brother looks a bit skeptical but at the family dinner, his grandfather looks more than pleased.

 

On his final day of the month stay with the Pastrňáks he receives the summons to see the head of the family at his home office, not the church’s. Believing it to be personal business, he tries to organize his thoughts and stay calm. The bottom of his shoe has pieces of hay sticking to it, his hair not combed back. Going in trying to be the model citizen is harder than it looks.

He shines his shoes at the mat on the front door, then walks upstairs. Weak sun flits in and hits his shoulders. It pushes him toward his destination, giving him the strength he needs.

A collection of oil paintings take him to the double French doors of the office. It’s the only entrance in the house that is transparent from the outside. He raises a hand and knocks on panel pine, doing his best to keep the glass in tip-top shape.

“Who is it?” the older voice calls out. He can hear the shake in it.

“William,” he says back, loud enough to hear over the sound of plows and tractors outside.

“Come in.”

He turns the knob and enters. The bottom of the door scrapes the floor as he moves it. The first thing he registers is the smell of vinegar. The pastor sits in the centre of the room, plaques on every wall and books of every shape and size closing in on him.

Willy tries not to get ahead of himself. “You asked for me, sir?”

“I did. Please, sit down.” He gestures toward the single chair in front of the desk.

Willy moves to enter the room when he hears a cough to his right. There, stands an older man he’s seen before but never been introduced to. He resembles a goat with his long facial hair.

Willy takes his seat, holding his hands close to his belly. “Am I in trouble?” he asks.

The pastor waves his hand. “Of course not. This is a happy meeting.”

The other man in the room moves closer. Willy can feel the heat of his hands. They look about ready to hold onto the back of his chair.

“I’m sorry,” he turns around, “have we met?”

“This is my placement advisor, Matthew. He stands here as my witness, don’t mind him.”

That’s easier said than done. Willy’s preference would be for both of them to talk about matters alone. That’s how it has always been.

“William,” the pastor takes back his attention, “I must say that you look much happier now than you did before.”

Willy nods his head. “I am, sir.”

“We appreciate the work you have put in here. I am happy that you are now a part of our family and that, in transitioning, you find yourself more obedient.”

Willy’s not sure how to respond to that. He tries to keep smiling.

“God spoke to me long before you came here. I knew this would be the right decision for you.”

“I’m happy to hear that, sir.”

“But I won’t keep you longer than I need to, I do have a purpose for bringing you here. It’s about my grandson, David.”

There are many different possibilities that come to mind about what he’s going to say. All are so different from each other.

“I have spoken with your father and we agreed that we could join your hands together in marriage. David has already accepted.”

Willy’s throat goes dry. Of the many possibilities that he’s thought of, that was the one he was fearing. One month was plenty of time.

Now that he thinks about it, it makes sense. The knowing looks around the house, David being pushed on him at every family opportunity. Willy imagined that the year difference would mean he was ineligible for marriage until his next birthday. Even that can’t protect him from the will of God, so it seems.

The pastor must notice his eyes crossing. He stands up and helps Willy to his feet.

“You don’t have to think about it now. Your stay with our family is over for the time being, so go be with your mother and father. You can discuss it with them.”

Discuss. That’s a light way of putting it. He wants to scream.

The pastor would need consultation from his parents to even ask for his hand in marriage, that’s the worst betrayal of all. Their blessing makes it possible--well, not possible. If the pastor was hellbent, he could always make an exception and marry them off like he did his daughter, David’s mother. He almost wishes that was the case. It would be better knowing his parents fought tooth and nail to be able to spend more time with their son.

They had no reservations about marrying him off. They put up no fight for their other son. Now, they’re going to lose both of them.

 

“I’m not going to marry him! I’m not!” he yells. He throws his shoes at his father. The toe cap bangs when it hits the floor, the outsole leaving a streak on the wood.

“It doesn’t matter what you want,” his father says back to him. “Pick those up.”

“No,” Willy says. He stares his father down with contempt.

His father picks up the shoe closest to him. “You’re not a child anymore, it’s time you stopped acting like one.”

“How could you do this to me?” he asks. He puts away the fighting words for a second.

It makes no difference. His father’s face tightens. “It wasn’t my decision to make. Maybe this will be a good thing.”

“A good thing?” Willy laughs to himself. “You have no _idea_ what you’re talking about.”

“Then it looks like we’re even. Pick up your shoes and put them away.” He ends the conversation by walking away.

“But I don’t even love him!” Willy yells. Wasn’t love what marriages were all about? That’s what the green and brown book said. That’s how he looked at it.

He knew placement marriages were in his future but going about them was different for every person. Some people got a month or year-long courtship. They got to slowly fall in love. They’re a small minority but what kept him going over the years was thinking he was in the small ten percent.

“You should consider yourself lucky you know him,” Jacqueline speaks up. “Michelle was married to a man she didn’t even know.”

“Michelle _wanted_ to be married,” he says to his younger sister. “This is different.”

“Stop talking about your sister,” his mother snaps. “Get to work, both of you. You being engaged doesn’t stop you from being able to do chores.”

Before he left, David gave him a nice engagement ring, something to tie them together while they’re apart. At that moment, he has no grievances with throwing it at his father and stomping on it.

 

Willy gets a week, _one week_ , to prepare for his wedding.

The ceremony is not without its joy; Willy’s extended family comes to celebrate with him. The ceremonial temple is white, the altar room full of lace patterns made to represent virginity. Rows of chairs seat children of all ages. The room is hot and stuffy. Families from both sides contribute enough food to not only feed the patrons but have some left over. He gets to see his father again and is handed the garbs he will wear to the altar, passed down the generations of family who were married just like he is about to be.

His mother, on the other hand, congratulates him on his new estate. The religious wealth he was never born into is now his by association. The catch is: he gives up his surname.

Their sealing ceremony is long. Willy has to flex his toes to keep the blood moving. He swears by what they ask him to, much of it referring to “keeping a good home” out of respect for his community. It’s everything they’re trying to push on him, keeping sweet just for the sake of it. If he promises now they can hold it against him later.

He comes back into it when the pastor joins their hands together. He addresses David, not him.

“David, I invite you to teach William all that you have learned. I give you this boy with whom you will create a home with. Do you accept?”

“I do,” he says, not his grandfather but to Willy. He squeezes Willy’s hand as he speaks.

“Then for time and all eternity, I ask you do right by your vows. May we all bless you with years of peace.”

The congregation answers for them, all standing to their feet at once. Willy’s in danger of losing favour with the Lord should he not deliver the kiss he is asking for, so he turns his head to the side and presses his lips to David’s. He’s experimenting with the angle and intent when they touch, it’s all new territory to him.

Their five seconds are up. They go back to their respective positions and wait out the round of applause. After that, the people depart to the reception. Plates of food sit steaming outside. The tables are stocked with condiments and sauces. The white tablecloths sway gently in the wind.

Willy is at the head of the table with the Pastrňák family, David by his side. If it were any other occasion he would be wolfing down food, but not now. He gets a few raised eyebrows when he denies a helping of what they’ve got on the table. David takes care of it by loading Willy’s plate with food and switching it with his finished plate when no one is looking. Thank goodness for him.

It doesn’t clear his anxieties about going home, his new home. The man that follows them back is the same thin-bearded man that stood behind him during the announcement he was to be wed, Matthew. Willy tries twice to excuse him, to no avail. He’s there on the authority of the church and nothing he says can dissuade him from doing his job. Unnecessary he may be, he helps make David looks better in comparison.

David, who undresses him with care and lets him decide how he wants to lay, who’s not unnecessarily rough with his touches. Who doesn’t speak so that Willy can close his eyes and imagine someone else, if he so wishes. He rocks into Willy, moaning just loud enough that Matthew can hear them through the door and share the moment they’re having with the rest of the congregation. Willy waits out the clock with the lights out, eyes heavy as David pulls out and tucks him under his chin for safe keeping.

 

William doesn’t return to the Pastrňák family home nor his own. They’re given a starter home, closer to the Pastrňák’s on the north end of the city. It looks like some of the houses Willy was working on back in his old job but with better quality wood making up the base and foundation. They have enough room out back to keep a couple animals and a huge kitchen space which he guesses will be for when there are children running up and down the halls, plus the sisters and brothers-in-law who will need to be seated when company comes over. His favourite addition is the porch swing.

There are two rooms, the master and the guest. William takes over the guest but keeps his belongings in the master in case of a surprise visit from family, who would have too many questions to ask if they saw the men were keeping separate. David says nothing when he brings it up and doesn’t come back for him when the moon is hanging low in the sky. William thinks the separate beds will be good for them, now they each have their own space after having to share everything else.

William cooks breakfast, David brings in fresh food to use, and their routine comes into fruition without them needing to lift a finger. A lot of it comes from being awake when David is in the house, seeing as how his desk job, something to do with arranging welfare cheques and food stamps, takes up a lot of his time. As for William, he has no job. His duty is to his house and he learns that too quick.

He misses being able to operate machines and equipment. He loved carrying wood planks to a fro their destination: it’s what his hands were made for. There was something about touching his fingers and feeling the coarse skin and the dirt under his fingernails that made him so happy. Now, the only time he sees the excavators are when they’re carrying bags of grain, wheat, or rice from the storehouses to the supply chains where they will be distributed to each family based on how many children are in the household. It all becomes so practical.

On their third day together they begin opening boxes, some of the things their belongings and other gifts from friends and family. Chairs, lamps, utensils, everything a new family could need to fill their home. With both of them working together, the work is made much easier. David rolls up his sleeves and puts his glasses down to help turn the upside down boxes right side up, then puncture the tape with scissors to get at what’s inside.

William likes watching him work. He has nice hands, strong and firm. He likes grabbing at them and holding them in the public eye. It helps contribute to the idea that they are happily married, learning how to live together. Some of the secondary wives and husbands came up to him on Sunday mass, talking to him like he knows the ins and outs of domestic life now. It makes him think a lot about future adjustments.

“Will you ever take another partner?” William asks.

David, who looks like he was zoning out, comes back to him. “Pardon?”

“Will we be accepting anyone else into our marriage?”

David meets his eye line. When he sees that William isn’t joking he walks up to him, takes his face in both hands and kisses him on the forehead. “No,” he says. “You’re the only one.” He pets down Will’s hair, spreading the dust and dirt from his hands everywhere.

“What about kids?” he can’t help but ask. “You’ll need a wife.”

“I have you,” David says. “We weren’t married to have children.”

“So why were we?” David is well, David. He manages to be both the playful sort and also the smartest person in the room. Why the pastor would ever think to marry him off to a boy on the south side is beyond him.

David tears open the next box. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t make the decisions.”

“From what I hear, you do.”

David says nothing. Truth be told, right now Willy can’t organize his thoughts. What’s coming out of his mouth is not what’s on the mind. He blames it on having not come to terms with being married yet.

 

Marrying David has its privileges. The expectations for someone in his position are lengthy but he benefits from being the pastor’s grandson through marriage. Most people don’t try to look too hard into their relationship or what they do behind closed doors. It views as disrespectful in so many ways.

And while the bulk of the expectations marrying into a household name, even if not by choice, some expectations follow him from less obvious places. The big, glaring one is him coming from a family of six. A big family but not as big as some that live out on the farmlands, where factoring in plural wives and husbands can result in ten to twenty children. Not everyone will be able to have the traditional family, that’s true, but David has the family lineage and combined with him marrying William, someone from a big family, people are going to want them to have babies one way or another.

People ask him about it all the time, the mothers especially. They come up to him and drop a simple “are you thinking about opening up your family” question into casual conversation.

He’ll laugh. “Not right now. We’re still getting used to married life.” He learns very fast that open-ended questions keep them going, so he gets very good at creating the perfect answer.

Most mind their own business, “most” being the people in the town. David’s grandfather begs to differ.

Without notice, they get a surprise visit from the pastor on a Saturday morning after the rooster crows. William was in the middle of trying to follow a recipe the neighbours gave him to help him feel more comfortable cooking what David likes and because of it, he answers the door looking like a mess. His hair is hanging low and his shirt is not tucked in.

The last-minute fixes to his appearance probably don’t salvage first impressions. “Are you looking for David?” he asks the pastor. “I think he’s up in his study.”

“Yes, actually. Would you go get him?”

Back to being ordered around. He swallows back the need to keep talking to him, as if trying to tell the other man what he was up to would somehow redeem himself.

The knocks on the study door come louder than necessary. When David pokes his head out, William points with his head. “Your grandfather is downstairs.”

William doesn’t get the opportunity to change but David can swing on a nice shirt and greet their pastor with a firm handshake. He must mention something funny because the older man bursts out laughing after a simple trade of the words. William laughs in the background to try and fit in.

The pastor has a wide grin on his face, his wrinkles popping. “How are you, my boy?”

“Good,” David says. "We wanted to thank you for the house, yet again. It’s beautiful here.”

“I’m glad.” He turns to William. “I hope all the space is suitable for the time being.”

“It is,” William says.

The two sit down at the table, trading cordial words, while William starts walking back and forth like a chicken with its head cut off until his brain throws up the image of the kettle. He knew there was something he should be doing to be hospitable but it took longer than it should’ve to realize what it was.

He opens their drawer of tea bags, looking for the right choice when the older man speaks up. “Green tea, please.”

“What?” he asks.

The pastor refuses to repeat what he’s said, his mouth clamped shut. Luckily, William is able to backtrack and make sense of it when he has a second to think.

He closes the drawer with his hip. “I’m sorry, we don’t have any green tea on us.”

“Why not? It’s David’s favourite.”

That he didn’t know. They got the tea bags as souvenirs and he assumed if David had a preference he would speak up about it or find some on his own. He can’t read his mind.

Instead, he smiles at them. “Do you have another preference?”

“Please, sit down and join us,” David says. He taps the chair beside him with his foot.

William walk-runs over to the chair. He folds his hands in his lap and straightens his back, meeting the older man’s eyes.

The conversation continues without him. He’s glad for it; it feels like everything that’s coming out of his mouth now is heresy. He trusts David to be able to take care of whatever he’s there for.

That being said, he can’t keep his peace forever. The pastor addresses him, “have you been upholding your vows, William?”

He’s about to say “what” but takes the two seconds to rethink his word choice. “Pardon me?”

Any well-meaning expression on the pastor’s face fades. “You two look like stiff boards,” he says. “What exactly has been happening since your wedding?”

David goes first. “We’ve just been getting our affairs in order.”

“It’s taken a lot out of us both,” Williams leads. “There’s so much going on.”

“That’s no reason to slack. What happened to you, William? You used to be such a hard worker. You could do anything I asked of you.”

“That’s when I was working in the fields, sir.” The pastor doesn’t understand being a house head like he is; having to live and work in a house all day is a completely different set of circumstances.

Even with the sir tacked on at the end of his reply, it’s more sour than sweet. The pastor takes a second to think of something to say, clearly not expecting William’s response.

When the pastor speaks again it’s to David, not him. “David, please get your life in order. People in town are talking. Your marriage should be an example of what all families here should strive to be like. I can’t have insubordination running around unchecked.”

He says a couple more things but the hand squeezing William’s thigh keeps him from answering the taunts or questions. When the visit finally pulls to a close it’s like he can breathe again, like taking off tight shoes.

The destruction doesn’t end there. After they see him out, David goes to great lengths to avoid him and manages to do that rather well considering William’s only place, at least according to traditions, is managing their property. It’s at dinner when everything comes to a head.

“You could’ve at least spoken to him with some semblance of respect,” David says. He’s just finished eating and throws his napkin down on the table.

The food isn’t even cold in his belly and they’re already fighting about it. William rises to the challenge. “You didn’t stand up for me at all.”

“You spoke out of turn! Do you understand how badly it reflects on me when you do whatever it is you want? You can’t just break rules for the sake of breaking them.”

William looks down at his plate. He has a difficult choice to make: lie down and take it or fight some more about it and continue to look disobedient.

David continues, “you may not care about your standing in the church but it is everything to me. I won’t tolerate this.”

“If you’re not going to become a pastor why do you even care?” William says. “It’s not like it stops your career goals.”

David lets out a puff of air. “Even if I’m not the pastor I’m still under the same scrutiny, _if not more so_ because of the rumours about you. You walking around in town, doing what you please, not even looking like you have a home to get back to makes us both out to be awful.”

“Well, what did you expect?”

David’s hand rises to hold his forehead, elbow on the table. “Do you know how much it hurts me to have my friends and family tell me they’ve seen you with other boys? It’s embarrassing! You were supposed to save yourself for marriage.” William takes offence to that. David shuts him up by adding more to his rant. “I didn’t have to take you on, you know.”

“I didn’t ask for you to do that,” William says. He pushes his plate forward to give his hands room.

When David looks back up, his face is calm. Given the rigid situation they’re in, it’s a shallow comfort. “Why is it such a problem for you that I care?”

“Because I don’t need you too! I managed fine on my own without you for years.”

“But you’re not without me now. There are rules here. Do you know what happens when others perceive that you aren’t satisfying me? You get a wife to compete with. It’s on the minds of everyone already.”

“Then why not make it official? If I’m such a bad husband then get rid of me.”

David looks shocked that he’d even say that. He shakes his head, standing up with his plate in hand and walking over to the sink.

Abandoning William isn’t a simple solution nor one that will look good on either of them should David go on with it. Now that they’re into this marriage, there’s no getting out. The only changes he can foresee coming would be the addition of a new person.

It brings a lot to the table, the stiff boards comment more than any of the others. They hold themselves like their own people, not a couple. Maybe if there was more intimacy that would change. It’s feelings he’s waiting for, however. He can’t just grow into a relationship overnight. Despite being in a place to explore his sexuality without fear of punishment, nothing about finding himself in the bedroom is appealing.

The next day at church service, the passages the pastor chooses to talk all about the sanctity of marriage. He goes into depth about the duties and responsibilities of a family regardless if they are old and wise with children of their own or newlyweds. So much of it feels like a jab at his incompetence.

It does do something. William finds himself sitting at the foot of David’s bed after dinner and greeting him when he comes in.

“You want to do this marriage right?” William asks. “Then let’s do it.”

David looks around at the two handles he has lit. The dots connect. “Will,” David says.

“What? I’m not satisfying you, everybody knows that. So let’s get it over with. Come here.”

“I’m not going to make you do that.”

William can’t help himself. He throws a pillow at David. “So what do you want? I try to make things better and you push me off, then you come back and get mad at me for it.”

“I want one night without any arguing! I want you to actually see me as your husband and not someone you’ve been glued to. I hate when you look at me like that.” William can see the strain in his eyes. “Like I’m second best, that you hate being with me so much.”

William’s hands fall. “I didn’t ask for this,” he says. “I didn’t love you when we got married. I wasn’t expecting to get married!”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m just asking you to try. I don’t want to be the one making up my married life when I talk to my friends because the reality is so sad.”

David walks over to the bed.

“I thought you were going to sleep here with me every night,” he says. His voice is warming up. “I didn’t get married expecting the other side of the bed to be cold.” He sits beside William, the bed bouncing with him.

William waits a second. Then he reaches out and takes his hand. His vision is blurry with wet shapes. It feels like the frustration is manifesting in his tears.

The guilt is overpowering, so William stays the night with him. He doesn't complain and he doesn't make a fuss. It feels like the right thing to do. Part of him wants it. Part of him is unsure. But he would be a fool to forsake this man, after everything he's done for him. It's just sharing a bed. It's the bare minimum. Had he been assigned to anyone else, it could have been a lot worse.

One night becomes many. It goes on to become second nature to wake up stuffy and hot with another body around you. He lets David hold his face and stroke his hand down the backs of his arms and neck. More importantly, he lets him sell the fantasy to everyone else. Life becomes a bit easier, after that. 

 

The duty of the married bride and/or husband is to get close to the head of the home. They are the ticket to heaven. Family falls secondary, becoming branches of the family tree and little more than that. William knows now why the married couples without children move away from those who share their last name. It’s to concentrate love all in that one person, so that they may lead you right.

David always maintains that proper behaviour is mandatory in public spaces but loose at home. He sits next to his father in service, William by his side. William has to have a clean house and face, keep the wrinkles out of his shirts, and set the table in under five minutes. There are eyes everywhere to make sure. Anything he does wrong gets back to David, who by law must correct him. The cycle continues month by month until he can reasonably say he has made sense of married life.

At home, after he hangs up laundry on the clothesline and washes the dishes, David has no problem with him speaking out of line or changing into clothes not approved by the church. He doesn’t ask that William braid his hair back to keep it out of his face. William takes these few liberties and tucks them under his arm, not asking for more. Blood runs thicker than water, but there’s no question that if his grandfather finds out, David could be excommunicated.

Every day William asks himself when it will end, if it could. They could jump the perimeter and buy themselves into a better life, then William could go travel and David could find himself a nice farm boy to marry. When he tells David as such, the other man goes quiet and doesn’t speak to him for the remainder of the evening.

But still, he wonders when the bough will break. Will there come a day when the Lord demands more from their marriage or the church decides someone new will come over, someone who can sound the whistle on their life? David is the only person he’s got left, it’s sound advice to try not pissing him off for a change.

He waits for the dust to settle. He smiles his widest when David buys two pot-bellied pigs for him to look after; companion pets more than anything. Life becomes normal, as normal as it can be.

 

Not that they don’t have their good days.

The year of William’s twenty-third birthday is the hottest yet; even the brush has difficulty growing on roadsides and in rolling hills. The gathering places of the people changes to accommodate rising temperatures, feasts and celebrations go back indoors. The canyonlands open up, protecting the community inside of the walls of stone and dust. It traps the rain, funnelling it down into their lakes and rivers. More often than not, supplies run low and they have to make a trip into town. They keep the wives and children in the compound, only asking that William join them when they’re short manpower.

David’s with him always on those missions out. He uses his body to shield him from the cameras and conversations flying over their heads. He’s more proactive than William’s father when it comes to keeping away the unwanted, the people who have so little joy in their lives that they come to destroy theirs.

It was a long walk back from the latest expedition. William’s upstairs soaking his feet in cold water to treat the blisters from the dress shoes he had to have on for hours when he hears his voice.

“Hey Will, come outside,” David yells from downstairs.

“What?”

“Come down here, I want to show you something.

Grumbling, William follows the orders. He doesn’t towel dry his feet and slaps them down on the floor as he walks downstairs with no real sense of urgency. He’s not quite sure what all the fuss is about or why David is yanking his arm when he sees him, dragging him outside.

Heat blasts in his face. He feels sick with how much of it there is. With no socks on, his wet feet collect clumps of dirt that stick in between his toes. The disgusting grit of sand rubbing on sand makes a shiver run up his spine.

“What did you want to show me?”

David shushes him. He becomes lighter on his feet, stepping on the tips of his toes and recommending William do the same. Then, his hand points out something. It’s a red, blue, and yellow. It looks like the shape of chicken but bigger. Way bigger.

David looks so pleased with himself but William can’t for the life of him figure out what it is. “I can’t see it,” he says.

David removes his glasses. “Try these.”

William is careful when he’s handling them; the frames are so thin it feels like they’ll snap. He slides the templates down the side of his head, parting blond hair as he goes. The world comes into focus.

Sure enough, there’s a plump bird on their property. It has a white stripe around its neck and leopard spots on the belly. He makes a happy noise, hands holding the fence tight.

“Oh, that’s so cool.” He leans forward. “I’ve never seen that before.”

The bird is by the pig pen, craning its head to drink from the water buckets. Its long neck opens like an accordion.

David pats his shoulder. “You need glasses.”

“What?” William looks away from the bird. “No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. You’re blind.”

William gives David his glasses back. “No, I don’t think so.” He makes his voice syrupy sweet. When David gets serious about what he needs, from more friends to new shoes, he’s too easy to poke fun at.

“William--” David starts. William cuts him off with a kiss on the cheek. A mock gesture he started doing to clear public appearances.

David lets go of what he was about to say, giving in to the small show of affection. When William pulls away, he sways on his feet.

William remembers then something that he had to tell David. He rushes to spit it out before he forgets. “Your grandfather wants us to cook something for the reception this weekend. Mary’s baptism.”

Sure enough, it ruins the moment. Better than forgetting about it, he supposes. He’s been trying to improve his memory over time, to be more efficient.

“Ah.”

“So I need you to maybe go in and ask for poultry? That and some more sunflower seeds.”

David mulls over his words and doesn’t get back to him straight away.

“What if,” David begins, “we go get that pheasant.”

William blanks. “You’re kidding, right?” He looks over David’s shoulder at the blob. He can hear it clucking. “We can’t catch that.”

David grabs his chin. Their eyes meet. “The William I know doesn’t back down from a challenge.”

“I’ll get my pants dirty,” William says.

“So? I don’t care. We’ve got a couple of empty bean tins and some chicken wire. Let’s go for it.”

Birds are smart and evasive. Sure, William had his fair share of pigeon and robin chasing as a child but that was a long time ago. Even if he’s not trying to run at it he doubts their combined brainpower will do anything. David looks pretty determined though.

William bites his bottom lip. “We’re going to fail.”

“And when we do, I’ll buy you the biggest chicken I can find. Do you know where the grain is?”

William can’t help but feel flattered. “Yeah,” he says. “You sure you can set everything up without scaring it away?”

“I can try,” David says,

“I’ll be back.”

As far as courting rituals go, he can’t say anyone in town would spend a night trying to catch themselves a bird to eat later. The rituals that come to mind include cooking dinner for ten people or building your spouse the bed you’ll share for the rest of your living days. There was an entire year at school dedicated to those sorts of things after all. But it’s fitting they would go for the bird. It’s one of the first times in three years David gets to hear his ugly laugh, and thank God he doesn’t try to annul the marriage for it.

 

Kissing David used to be so hard. His heart wasn’t in it. Every placement marriage has growing pains, of course, but there comes a point in time when people expect that you’ve got your heads on straight and your act together.

No one thinks more of that then their pastor. Their soon to be retired pastor, after his announcement at mass. It’s news David has been waiting on for some time. His brother is going to be serving at the altar for the next undetermined number of years until he too, passes the torch to one of his sons.

William can’t share the glee. David’s brother has a large family, getting bigger with the second pregnant wife he now has. There’s more pressure now than ever to have as many children as possible. To others, David and William are not pulling their part.

Their current pastor has a few more tricks up his sleeve. He’s moving out west, to a smaller denomination, to be with his wives. The announcement that he’s leaving is met with joy and sadness. The family vows to get together as much as possible to make up for lost time. That’s almost five days a week that William is sitting at the table beside David. Now, six times in a week he has to feel his grandfather-in-law’s eyes on him: hard and unforgiving.

He’s not stupid. He knows that the pastor comes over to talk to David, usually on business stipulations. That doesn’t mean personal information isn’t tossed around. He should know, that day he hears them talking through the empty lock in the door.

“I don’t know about that William, boy,” the pastor says. “You always look so tired.” He speaks so low that William has to press his ear up against the door to understand what he’s saying.

“Keeping up my job has been harder than usual, our numbers are growing. It has nothing to do with Will.”

“Still. If you’re unhappy--”

“You chose him, děda.”

“--I will do everything in my power to help you.”

He’s going to be replaced. He doubles over, holding himself in his arms.

David isn’t so impressed. “I don’t need help. We’re happy. You’re so critical of him, always. I have someone in my life now that I can share. It’s all I want--have ever wanted.”

William can’t listen for any longer. He watches his steps as he walks away as to not disturb any of the creaky floorboards. The men are left to their conversation, protected by secrecy.

David comes downstairs an hour later. William has fed the chickens and the pigs and is starting on the stack of dirty dishes so that David can dry them later. Their pastor leaves without saying a word to him.

William can’t keep his secret for long, already he’s double looking at David, trying to see if his eyes are sad. He can’t help but feel insubordinate for even wondering about it. Knowing him, he’s going to trap it under his insecurities until it becomes its own monster. He’s just got David and now he’s going to lose him.

The words slip out. “I heard you speaking to your grandfather.” He drags the sponge down the plate, the squeak distracting. David looks up from his tea.

If he’s worried about the breach of information, he doesn’t look like it. “You did? I didn’t think we were loud, I apologize.”

William drops the sponge into the water. “I listened in and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“You were at the door?”

“I heard you mention me. I thought it was something you were too scared to tell me in person but then once I was there, I couldn’t stop listening.”

“That’s.” David looks for words. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“I’m sorry.”

David raises his voice. “It was personal talk.”

“I know! I did it and I shouldn’t have but that’s not important. Do you want me to leave?”

“What?”

“I said,” he walks forward, “do you want me to leave?”

David shakes his head. “Of course not. Why would you even say that? We’re married. We fixed our problems.”

“You said it yourself: your standing in the community is your priority. It’s clear your grandfather isn’t ever going to think I’m capable of being your husband.”

David grabs him by the shoulders. “Listen to me. Will,” he grabs William’s chin and connects their eyes, “listen. I respect the congregation and its wishes but this is my house and you are my husband. He can’t tell me how to pray but not how to love you.”

“But aren’t there rules about loving you too?”

“If you were listening in you would know that I consider you the best match for me. What more could I ask for without being greedy?” He adds a laugh to his words. His eyes swell.

William lets David drag his hands down his face. He leans into the touch.

David steps closer, bringing them chest to chest. “I love you. Don’t listen to what other people say.”

William drops his head down, placing it over David’s heart. He hears the steady beat. It’s there when he’s trying to sleep at night and will be for the rest of his life.

And finally, he’s at peace with that.

**Author's Note:**

> warnings exist for arranged marriages (here called placement marriages) and power imbalances in said marriages. men and women are assigned partners regardless if they are attracted to one another. the “head of the house” commands all their spouses, who are expected to be subservient to them. david does not abuse this power and his relationship with willy, despite a few arguments, is stable. 
> 
> mildly dubious consent tag exists because william does not love david when they first have sex. they adhere to tradition by having sex on their wedding night and neither are opposed but wouldn’t do it if they had the option. william knows that david would stop if he asked him to.
> 
> the religious denomination in the story is an extremist community, so again, not a valuable source for information. i recognize that religious polygamy (of the denominations and groups that practice it) may be homophobic. here, i changed this to reflect a world where homosexual relationships exist here to pair off boys as this helps with population control (one man with many wives means there's a surplus of younger men) and as such, they are considered normal and respectful
> 
> come talk to me @cursivecherrypicking on tumblr!


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